


Fade

by MoJoLiberosis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Depression, Don't read if easily disturbed, Eventual Romance, M/M, Majority POV First Person, Romano doesn't know what he wants, Self-Harm, Some POV Third Person, Spain wants Romano, not what I usually write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 13:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12865176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoJoLiberosis/pseuds/MoJoLiberosis
Summary: Romano needs a break. From his brother. From Italy. From everything.After making some last-minute arrangements he arrives at Spain's place, the latter welcoming him with open arms, but will Romano be able to open up about what happened?Old wounds heal, but some scars don't fade...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this back in 2014 while I struggled with depression to give myself some an escape. Writing about someone else's extreme depression and struggles made me feel better about my own situation. Back then, 'Fade' was just a series of scenes slackly tied together by time skips that I got the spark to write every so often for about half a year then stopped. I returned to the idea with a more defined writing style in the Summer of 2015 and began to form whole chapters out of the loosely connected drabbles. 
> 
> Now I'm reminded of it again as some of those old feelings, which I came to overcome by expressing myself through writing, have returned as I start this chapter in my life where I'm expected to be, like, 100% independent with hardly any guidance. I'm reminded of the old urges I had to self-harm when I read Romano experiencing those same feelings. And how he--in the way I wrote him--made me not feel so alone back then. 
> 
> I guess what I'm getting at is that I hope that maybe this fanfiction can be that sort of comfort for someone else who might be experiencing similar feelings. I mean, it's also totally fine as entertainment too; if you're not depressed or struggle with similar feelings, it's okay to like dark stuff, just don't mock it. 
> 
> Anyways, this story, despite being 17,000 words long so far in Word, is not completed. I will be uploading each chapter every two weeks (at the latest) until I get to the point at which I have no more chapters left. In the meantime, I'm going to be working hard to see if I can finish the story and complete incompleted chapters... 
> 
> One last thing: I'm giving humongous thanks to CelastrinaNeglecta (or Japanese Butterfly on Fanfiction.net). I never would have returned to this story if it wasn't for her enthusiasm and support of me writing this.
> 
> WARNINGS: Sad inner-monologue

  _‘What am I living for now?’_

_Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched, standing in this great and unfamiliar house, the dearest thing I have being taken away from me._

_Because such a thing happened, nobody wanted to be around me; I wasn’t treated as a human or a country, but something to be left behind, like trash. They all said that eventually I would cease to exist... But I continued to exist, only so I could prove them wrong. Always feeling like I was on the verge of a meltdown, I lashed out constantly. And why the hell not? My only hopes I placed with God and, truthfully, I ceased believing in Him long ago. The whole world literally was against me._

_I gripped the window sill tightly. My fingers were red from being frostbitten and my cheeks frozen from where the tear marks were. I’m losing my self-control completely, holding on for dear life. But when had Life ever been dear to me? I knew why I felt this way; I knew there was no purpose for me even…_

I open my eyes slightly as they sting from the lashes of the breeze. The sight of the paved driveway grounds me and I’m reminded that I am 2,000 years old, living in Italy and that Feliciano is in the next room over. I’m fucking fine.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT: Struggling to understand feelings and quell depressive feelings

I hated driving. Cars were practically giant bullets and I never felt completely comfortable with that kind of control, unless in a rage--at that point I didn't care about most things.

I held the wheel firmly at 10 and 2 o’clock as my thoughts focused in on all the bastards around me mercilessly criticizing and cursing to myself. In that fashion, I arrived late in the morning; the yellowish sun had begun to sink from its peak and the clouds were like white wisps of cotton balls that had been pulled apart and hung across sky.

My black Ferrari came to a stop in front of the manor. In the distance the thunk of a car door broke the tranquil garden air and Spain looked up, curiously. Not expecting any visitors, he wracked his mind for an explanation as he removed his gardening gear and made his way through his home to answer the front door. He pulled the brass handle and stood, for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the light… Well, rather, that's what he _would_ have done, had a familiar Italian friend of his not been blocking the sun.

“Lovino!” I was jerked forward suddenly into the arms of my friend.

“Woah, _Spagna!_ ...” My arms wrapped around his back defeatedly. “Hey…” I responded.

No questions asked, he let me into his home. It was just like Antonio to get so caught up in whatever exciting thing was going on around him… And just what I needed. Maybe I’d even missed him.

“It’s good to see you, but I wasn't expecting you till tomorrow,” he said, taking my hand in his as we walked through the living room. “Are you hungry? You look skinnier than usual,” he looked me up and down, eyes remaining on my face for a few moments longer to add, “Oh, but not in a bad way.”

“Coffee… I’m not feeling too hungry,” I said monotonously. If it wasn’t apparent by the dark circles under my eyes I was actually tired as hell.

We headed upstairs and reached the guest bedroom. I turned the knob and, forgetting to shield my eyes, I opened it right up. That stupid Spaniard always kept curtains drawn in every room but his own, and the mother-freaking sun shone right into my face. Every. Single. Time. I could feel the _idiota_ behind me smiling the entire time while I winced.

“I’ll let you be for a few moments and I'll go start a pot for us.”

He let go of my hand and made his way to the kitchen. I felt him squeeze my hand just before though… Not that that mattered.

I undid the restraints on the curtains and they draped down to the floor. Though they were a pallid yellow from old age they were also thick and created enough shadow for me to sleep in.

I turned about, scanning the room. I remembered standing just like this when Spain was away for so long. I couldn’t sleep because I could hear Netherlands, who’d snuck in, down the stairs, warning Bella with horrible stories he’d heard about Antonio. They were things any human could read about in textbooks, today, but to personifications it’s our life; some of our darkest memories.

There was something in me… the negativity stirred—

_‘Isn't this why I left in the first place? Was it a bad thing to leave Italy? Should I have told Feliciano...?’_

—for a moment, but after a few deep breaths it subsided. I managed to quell that feeling, but it was still there growing quietly.

I took my cellphone out of my pocket, checking it.

No new messages. I sighed and put it face-down on the side table. The only people who would possibly text or call me were ones I didn’t want to see right now anyways.

My mind quieted, I flopped back onto my bed and rested for I’m not sure how long, but when I heard Spain calling it spurred me from my meditation.

I went down the stairs. In the kitchen was a mug, the coffee, creamer, and sugar out on the counter for me. Thinking that Spaniard had probably gone outside to the garden made me smirk. Not even this _‘tomate’_ could separate him from his actual ones.

I cringed at myself.

I looked up from the mug of coffee I was stirring the sugar into and out the window, at the fenced-in field. Antonio was poking around among the plants in his yellow gloves and straw hat. I chuckled a little and remained watching him for a while until I saw him heading inside. I made a beeline for the large sofa in the next room over, crossing one leg over the other to make it seem like I had been waiting for a while.

Antonio and I… were friends. He took me to live at his manor when I was a kid—we _are_ pretty close in age, just not in maturity. I mean, I am more mature than him, but my _country_ has just been around for a few years or so less than his. Anyways, I would take care of him when he was hurt or sick if Bella wasn’t around so I guess you could even say we’re close…

Nowadays, since Italy unified, we visited each other regularly and cooked and napped together like older times. I am more able to leave Italy than he is to leave Spain since Veneziano and I represent our country together, so it’s cool with our boss as long as one of us stays behind to take on the minuscule workload. And I prefer it this way—just the two of us.

The back screen door opened and shut. A worn-out Spain was stretching his arms as he came into the room.

“Hey, Roma,” he started, “I’m going to take a quick shower, that okay?”

“Yeah, do you mind if I watch your TV?”

“Nope,” he grinned childishly, “it’s in Spanish though.

“Oh no, what’ll I do?” I exclaimed mock-surprised.

He started walking off, chuckling, “ _Lovi comprende espa_ _ñ_ _ol~_ ”

“Huh? I didn’t get that!” I returned, smirking a bit.

Maybe it was guilt, the feeling. I didn’t even leave Feli a note I just kinda up and left with hardly a goodbye. I knew he’d be worried… but that made me even more sure that I didn’t want to be near him right now.

I flipped through the channels, shaking my head. I wasn’t about to let a little weight on my chest get me down. The sun was good for bad moods (I remember reading that somewhere) and what better place to be in the sun than among green Spanish plains inside of a manor with way too many windows?

In the living room was a large semi-circular window built high up into the wall over the front double-doors. It was beautiful and in older times, in the mornings after Spain and I had slept-in on the couch together, it emulated the sunrise for us as the actual star rose and the rays of light pierced through the glass.

‘ _This is right... This is_ good _for me..._ ’

I wondered who it was that I was trying to convince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you may be starting to tell, I wrote Romano as having a much more prominent tsundere personality than in my other stories on this site. This is mostly due to the fact that when I started this fanfic those few years ago, I only had parts with him in the anime to go off from when trying to decide how he would act in certain situations.  
> That's not to say that I won't be editing the heck outta this to eliminate super cliché moments and ease up on heavy curse words, matching more of the realistic approach I like to go for (like in Room for Two). But each Romano I write is different depending on the story, so... *shrugs* 
> 
> Don't forget:  
> You should be happy and if you're not happy then you should consider that something might be wrong--not necessarily wrong with YOU. You're not broken for not being happy, it just means that there's something that needs to be examined.  
> And the only excuse that you need to get help is that you're not happy.  
> -(Paraphrased) Arin Hanson


End file.
